Hope
by Merthergirl
Summary: "Dean had always hated staying with his Dad." Teen AU in which Dean and Cas met on an online advice forum. Mary and John are divorced with joint custody, but dean has a particularly strong reason not to want to see his father. Meanwhile Cas struggles to deal with his autism. TW: Rape, sexual abuse. Happy ending. M for themes and perhaps scenes, but none planned.


ONE

Dean had always hated staying with his Dad. Every weekend he and Sam were dragged there, for two loathsome days with his Dad and his family- with his other wife and other son, Adam. Adam who was the same age as Sam. Adam who was a constant reminder of his dad's infidelity. Dean constantly stared at a clock, at his phone, at the sun in the sky- anything to help him count down the days until he was back home with his mum.

When he hit puberty those weekends started getting a lot worse. Kate changed shifts and had to work most weekends. Adam and Sam were now quite close and spent a long time playing video games. And his dad found that it was fun to touch Dean. What had at first been just touching quickly developed into harassment and violence if he resisted. When Dean hit sixteen, his dad took him on a father-son trip into the next state. It was there he lost his virginity, lost his dignity, lost his voice. He lost everything.

"If you struggle it'll be Sam instead."

But Sam would not lose anything. Dean would make sure of it. He began self-harming the next day, and would have attempted to take his own life had Sam not existed, not asked for his help with girls, not relied on him- not been there to rely on, as an anchor to reality. By the time he was seventeen Dean had been abused hundreds of times, and raped 104 times. It was a once-a-week thing. Like a proper father and son.

"Get up, Jerk!"

Dean lurched from his dream, gasping as he collided heads with his brother, who had leapt onto Dean's bed in some horrible act of horribleness. "Sam...why...awake?"

"We have to get ready to go home!" Sam said, teenage voice breaking in a way that, had Dean not been half-asleep, would have made him laugh. Home. Right.

"Wha...time?"

"It's nine, Dean. Mum's coming at ten."

"k..."

"No, it's not ok, wake up!"

A pillow smacked Dean's face repeatedly until he pushed the fourteen-year-old off onto the floor of his Dad's spare bedroom, where there were two camp-beds designed for weekend use only. "Ok, ok I'm up. God, Sammy, it's like I oversleep a lot."

Sam gave an exasperated groan and leapt to his feet, "Come on, I want to beat Adam after we're done packing!"

Dean stretched and climbed out of bed, pulling on a top. He didn't mind being shirtless in front of Sam, but he couldn't bear it in front of Him. "You still haven't beat him?"

The look on Sam's face told him enough. Sam seemed to constantly have that expression around Dean. Except when he looked at his arms. But Dean didn't want to think about that. When he stopped, when he was clean and recovered, he'd get tattoo sleeves to cover them. When. That was funny, sometimes it was If. It varied depending on his mood. When mum was coming to collect him, to take him home, it was When. When the impala rolled up on the drive, it was If.

When he was alone with his dad, it didn't exist. There was no future. Nothing but this.

"Geez you're so smart but you can't play video games."

"Shuddup." Sam sulked, a smile threatening to break his composure.

"I bet I can beat the squirt"

"That's because you don't have a life."

Dean laughed, aiming the pillow at Sam's head. It would have been thrown and possibly smashed the family photo behind him had Kate not appeared at the door, a smile on her tired face, "Boys are you nearly ready?"

"Yes Kate" Sam smiled, "Dean just needs to get his arse in gear."

She laughed, and fixed her gaze on Dean. They lingered on his face then dropped to his arms. Her smile faded. How was she to know why they were there? She probably thought it was his mum's fault. "Hurry up then."

Sam didn't meet Dean's eye, but instead busied himself with making his bed. Dean sighed and got dressed, chucking the duvet over the bed and following Sam out of the room. Sam had no idea either, and that was good. Neither did the boy who deliberately appeared on the landing as they did, grinning at them with sincerity.

John didn't touch Adam. Adam didn't look like Mary like Dean did.

Dean watched Sam get beaten three times before the doorbell rang and John jogged over to answer, "Hello"

"Hi, John, are the boys ready?" Mary asked in the same deadpan voice she always spoke to her ex-husband in. It was the voice that said _i'm not happy with you and i will never be satisfied with the limited custody. _Dean knew that if he could prove what his dad did he wouldn't have to visit anymore, but Sam liked Adam, and his dad. And John had told him exactly what he'd do if he did. It didn't bear thinking about.

"Yes they are," John said, whistling for the boys to come down the stairs. Mary's face tightened, she hated the way he could summon them, like dogs or soldiers.

Dean, Sam and Adam appeared at the stair well, and said their goodbyes. Dean ducked away from his dad and went beside his mum. Sam hugged the family goodbye and followed his family to Bobby's truck, humming, in high spirits. Mary had noticed Dean's reluctance to be near John, and couldn't help but feel triumphant as the favourite parent. But that was immature so she didn't gloat.

Instead she chucked their bag into the boot and climbed into the front seat, grinning at them, "fancy a burger?" the enthusiasm from her eldest son made her laugh- Kate was a health-maniac, and while Sam enjoyed the salads, she knew Dean despised the food at his dad's place.

Dean loved everything about his mum. She was beautiful, kind, strong, smart- and she always knew what to say. She didn't take any shit from anyone, and had left John as soon as she'd found out what he was doing on his 'business trips'. She'd moved in with his best friend Bobby, taking the boys with her, and when it came to court fought for her custody of her boys. She had a brilliant taste in music- as shown by the AC/DC blasting from the radio, and had never dated anyone while looking after the kids- something Dean was incredibly grateful for, given his distrust of men- and was now working two jobs to try and save for their own house.

Bobby had insisted that they could stay with him as long as necessary, but Mary insisted that it had been too long now, and she would let him get on with his life (and his boyfriend, Crowley, was getting a little broody.) Ellen had said the same, but since her husband had died only a month before the divorce, Mary hadn't wanted to put any more strain on her or Jo.

Dean closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He loved the smell of the truck. It smelt like sun-warmed flannel and slightly-stale deodorant. It smelt like burger grease and whiskey and a little bit of the perfume his mum wore. It smelt like cigarettes- but less so now, as his mum was quitting- and a little of something that was just... home. Dean smiled as his phone vibrated, and he received another message from Cas.

Cas was Dean's online friend. They'd met on an anonymous chat site for teenagers with troubles and found humour and comfort in each other. Cas had autism, and found it hard to interact with people. Online was different, he insisted to Dean when the blond boy told him otherwise. When you were online you didn't see each other. Cas didn't want Dean to see him. But he'd seen Dean. Dean had shown him a picture once, when asking about what colour shirt he should wear to his mum's birthday- three months ago. Cas had told him he was beautiful, and meant it. Dean hadn't been convinced.

_**How was the weekend? Want to talk about it?**_

Dean smiled and, checking that his mum couldn't see, started writing a reply.

_**Meh. Not really, same old, same old- how was therapy?**_

He closed his eyes until the next reply arrived, trying to forget about Saturday night's escapade with his dad. Sam was singing in the back, and that helped him, rooted him. When his mum joined in on the chorus, he could forget. He opened his eyes and joined in, drumming the rhythm into the dashboard.

_**Meh. Same old, same old, i guess. **_

~/~/~/

**Thank you guys, please review :D **


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